


Masquerade

by arysa13



Series: 2019 Kink Meme Fills [6]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Dubious Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Humor, Smut, WTFfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 13:11:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17746514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arysa13/pseuds/arysa13
Summary: Clarke won't deny that she deliberately set out to emulate Bellamy's girlfriend's outfit for the masquerade party in hopes of him seeing how much better she pulls it off. She didn't count on Bellamy assuming she WAS his girlfriend and pulling her away for a quick fuck.





	Masquerade

The first thought Clarke has when Echo models her outfit for the masquerade party next week is: _I would look so much better in that_.

She says as much to Raven and Harper as they leave Echo’s place, and is promptly met with a snort and an eye roll.

“Not that you’re not hot, Clarke,” Harper says. “But you just think that because you hate Echo.”

“And we know why you hate Echo,” Raven adds.

“I don’t hate her,” Clarke mutters. It’s a complete lie. Echo is overly vain, aggressive, and just downright unpleasant to be around. Clarke seems to be the only one who sees it that way. Raven and Harper think she’s jealous. And okay, maybe she’s a _little_ jealous. Maybe she wishes she’d figured out just a little sooner that she’s in love with Bellamy, and then maybe Echo wouldn’t even be in any of their lives.

But she hadn’t figured it out, and now Bellamy is dating this skinny bitch who takes up all his time and isn’t even a nice person.

That’s beside the point though. Whether or not Clarke hates Echo, she knows that Echo’s skin-tight green dress would look better on her. Echo doesn’t have the curves to pull it off.

Clarke knows exactly where Echo bought the dress, because she’d just gone on and on about it for half an hour, and out of complete spite, Clarke heads to the store now. Just to try the dress on. She just wants to take a picture and send it to Raven and Harper to prove them wrong.

She finds the dress in her size and slips in on, admiring herself in the dressing room mirror. She was right. She looks much better in this than Echo ever could. It hugs her curves like it was made for her specifically, and it shows off an indecent amount of cleavage. The perfect amount, in Clarke’s opinion. If Bellamy could see her in this dress, he’d see what he’s missing. Especially if she showed up to the masquerade party in it. She imagines standing next to Echo, outshining her in every way. Bellamy would probably break up with Echo on the spot.

Okay, she’s getting a little carried away. She laughs at herself. He’s not going to break up with his girlfriend over a dress. Right? She stares at herself a little longer. She really does look amazing. And even if the dress doesn’t make Bellamy dump his girlfriend for her, at the very least he’d see how sexy she looks in it. And it would annoy Echo. Clarke can’t resist an opportunity to piss off Echo.

She buys the dress. And just to be even more petty, she goes to the same costume store Echo had gone to and buys the exact same mask. She realises her friends are all going to give her shit for this. She’s not exactly acting like a totally sane person. Yet she feels a tingly sense of excitement about the whole thing. She can’t wait to see Echo’s look of shock and rage. Can’t wait for Bellamy to spend all night looking at her tits. She’s not normally one to go looking for attention, but if she causes a scene, so be it. This is going to be so much fun.

 

-

 

Clarke scans the crowd impatiently, waiting for Bellamy and Echo to arrive. She’s barely able to appreciate her surroundings, though the location for the party is beautiful. It’s outside, in a garden built especially for parties like this. Strings of lights wrap around the trees, giving off a faint glow that only lights up the things closest to them. The darkness only adds to the mystique of the whole night, and with everyone wearing masks, it’s hard to recognise anyone unless you’re standing right in front of them. The only reason she’s sure Bellamy and Echo aren’t here yet is that she hasn’t seen the dress yet. The same one she’s wearing right now. She’s also got on heels that are way too high, and the sparkly black mask she’d bought to match Echo’s. Her hair is up, tendrils of blonde curling around her face. She barely looks like herself.

She’s approached by Raven and Harper and she braces herself for their reprimands.

“Clarke. That _is_ you,” Raven says. She glances at Harper, then looks Clarke up and down, taking in the dress. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Enjoying the party.”

“That’s the dress Echo showed us last week,” Harper says.

“Obviously I know that.”

“I seriously thought you were Echo for a second,” Harper says.

“Please,” Clarke scoffs. “I pull this off way better than Echo does.”

“You have serious issues.”

“Why aren’t they here yet?”

“Bellamy is here,” Raven says. “Echo isn’t.”

Clarke perks up. “They didn’t come together?” She’s already looking around to see if she can see him.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Raven warns. “Echo just had to work late.”

“But still. He didn’t wait for her. Do you think they might break up?”

“Get a grip, Clarke.”

Clarke curls her lip, trying not to sulk. Raven’s right. She needs to stop pining and looking for him, and let him come to her. She doesn’t want to look desperate. She leaves Raven and Harper’s company to get herself a drink. There are waiters walking around carrying trays of champagne, but Clarke elects to get a glass of punch from the ornate fountain in the centre of the garden.

As she takes a sip from her glass, a pair of big, warm hands slide onto her waist. She knows instantly that it’s Bellamy. It smells like him. But his touch feels more intimate than normal, burning through her dress. The weight of his hands on her is too casual, like he does it all the time. Clarke can’t remember the last time they so much as brushed hands.

“Hey,” he whispers. His voice is low and gravelly, sending shivers through her body. God, if he knew what even his voice does to her. “Sorry about earlier.”

Clarke opens her mouth to question him. What exactly is he sorry for? But then he’s pulling her close, pressing his lips against her ear, trailing kisses down her earlobe and to her neck. Her breath hitches and he pauses for a split second before his lips are moving against her neck again, sucking against her skin. She can barely comprehend what’s happening. She tilts her head to the side to give him better access to her neck. Her head is fuzzy and her stomach flutters. Then it hits her. The dress. He thinks she’s _Echo_.

“God,” Bellamy groans. “You look sexier tonight than I’ve ever seen you.”

She should turn around. Say something. Tell him that it’s actually her neck he’s nuzzling right now and not his girlfriend’s. But then his hands slide to her ass, caressing her through the thin material of her dress, and her tongue freezes up. She doesn’t want him to stop. He presses his crotch against her ass, and Clarke can feel his cock, big and hard and throbbing. Her cunt clenches. God, she wants him inside her.

“I know it’s been a while,” Bellamy whispers. “But there is a hedge maze over there with lots of dark and hidden corners perfect for a rendezvous. What do you say?”

Clarke doesn’t trust herself to speak. He’s going to figure out it’s her at any moment. It’s wrong to let him think she’s Echo. But he thinks she’s sexy, and he wants to fuck her, and from the sounds of it, things aren’t great with his girlfriend.  

She’s probably not thinking straight. She’s definitely not thinking with her head. “Uh huh,” she murmurs, barely comprehending what she’s even saying. Her pussy his throbbing badly, and she can feel her arousal leaking out of her and into her panties. Bellamy steps away from her, brushing his fingers down her arm, then taking her by the hand.

Clarke glances around furtively before letting him lead her towards the hedge maze. Her stomach is in knots, and her heart is racing. It’s enough of a turn on that Bellamy is pulling her away to fuck her in the middle of the party. Somehow, him thinking she’s Echo adds another layer of excitement. Especially with his earlier words replaying in her head. _You look sexier tonight than I’ve ever seen you_.

He glances back at her, and he’s got the look of a naughty school boy on his face as they walk through the entrance to the hedge maze. They’re running now, twisting and turning through the maze, passing another couple who seem to have had the same idea.

Bellamy tugs her into a corner, spinning her to face him, backing her against the hedge. Clarke’s stomach flips over. She’s sure he’ll look into her eyes and know it’s her. How could he not? He’s going to figure it out, and then he’s going to hate her for not saying something sooner.

He pauses, his eyes dropping to her tits, and Clarke squeezes her eyes shut, knowing this is it, it’s over. He has to recognise that cleavage spilling out of her dress in not his girlfriend’s. But he brings his hand to her cheek, brushing his thumb over her skin, under the mask. Clarke shivers, opening her eyes. Bellamy smiles.

“I love you,” he whispers. Clarke pretends he means it for her. Bellamy’s hand moves from her cheek to the back of her neck, and then he’s drawing her lips to his. Clarke whimpers as their lips meet. She wonders if she feels different to Echo, tastes different. Bellamy tastes amazing. His tongue in her mouth is everything she’s ever dreamed of, and he’s kissing her like he wants to devour her. She can’t remember the last time she was kissed like this. Like she’s really wanted. Like she’s loved.

Despair bubbles in her chest. It’s Echo he really wants, not her. It’s Echo he kisses like this, Echo he loves. She pushes the emotions down, tries to put Echo out of her mind. This might be the only chance she gets to feel him like this, and she’s going to enjoy it. She can cry later, when she’s alone. Satisfied sexually but not emotionally. Right now, she’s going to focus on his lips on hers, and the growing need between her legs.

She wants him to touch her, to fuck her, but she can’t ask, too afraid he’ll recognise her voice. She grabs his wrist, pulling his hand from where is rests on her waist and dragging it down between her legs. He laughs against her mouth, and Clarke knows she is going to hate herself forever, knowing what that feels like, but never getting to feel it again. She wants to be the source of his joy always.

“Someone’s impatient,” Bellamy says. His fingers ghost over her panties, pressing against the quickly growing wet patch. Clarke kisses him again, grinding down on his fingers, desperately needing some friction. Bellamy pushes her panties aside and shoves a finger into her roughly. Clarke gasps, arching towards him, her pussy clenching around his finger.

“You like that, baby? You want more?”

“Mmhmm.”

Bellamy pushes another finger into her and Clarke drops her head against his shoulder. It’s been a while since anyone fucked her, and his fingers fill her up so nicely. He moves them inside her, and Clarke rocks against him. His lips find her neck again, and Clarke can feel herself slowly working towards orgasm as he kisses her and fingers her simultaneously. How is it that he has no idea that it’s her, and yet seems to know exactly what she wants and how she likes it?

He removes his fingers and she whines pathetically, missing the feeling of being filled by him already. He spins her around so her back is against his chest, and then he’s hiking her dress up over her ass, and she rubs herself against his hard-on, aching to feel it inside her.

“I’d love to take my time,” Bellamy whispers. “But someone might start to miss us. I promise I’ll go down on you for hours when we get home. And then I’ll fuck you nice and slow.”

Clarke imagines what that would be like. The she wonders how often Echo gets to have him go down on her, how often he fucks her. She squashes the thoughts as quickly as they arise. She’s not thinking about that right now.

Bellamy pulls her panties down, leaving them bunched around her thighs, then rubs his hand across her bare ass. He squeezes her ass cheek and Clarke squeaks. Fucking hell, she’s never loved having her ass groped more. It’s still bewildering to her that Bellamy doesn’t seem to notice that this is not his girlfriend’s ass. After all, Echo is as flat as a board, both ass wise and chest wise. But then Bellamy’s hand is between her legs again, toying with her clit, and all thoughts of Echo are banished from Clarke’s mind.

“So wet,” he whispers. “So wet for me. You want it bad, don’t you, baby?”

Clarke moans. “Yes,” she says, forgetting she’s not supposed to speak. She hopes her arousal masks her voice enough for him to not notice that it’s her. She couldn’t bear it if he stopped now.

Bellamy removes his hand from between her legs, and she can hear him undoing the fly on his pants, getting his cock out. Clarke turns her head, looking over her shoulder. She can’t resist getting a look at him, and she’s not disappointed. He’s bigger than anyone she’s ever been with before, thick and long and perfect.

He guides his cock between her legs, sliding his length along her slit. Her pussy leaks onto him, slicking his cock so it will slide easily into her. He pushes the tip into her cunt, pressing his lips to her shoulder at the same time.

“I’m going to fill you up so good,” he says. He does just that, thrusting his cock into her wanting pussy. He holds onto her as he fucks her, his arms around her are soft and gentle, like he’s afraid to break her, yet he fucks her hard at the same time.

Clarke completely forgets herself as he winds her tighter and tighter, forgets she’s supposed to be Echo, that she’s not supposed to let him know who she really is.

“Yes, Bell,” she pants. “You feel so good. I want to come so bad.”

“Yeah? You gonna come on my cock?”

“Yes. Oh god, yes.”

“Go on then, baby, come for me.”

Clarke comes, shaking in his arms, crying out louder than she thinks she ever has before.

“Can I come in you?” Bellamy asks, sounding wrecked, like he’s trying desperately to hold back but it’s taking all he’s got not to let go.

“Yes, come in me!”

Bellamy groans, coming apart inside her. Clarke moans at the feeling of his come filling her pussy. “Oh my god, Bellamy.”

“Bellamy?”

Clarke whips her head in the direction of the voice, panic rising in her chest. It’s dark in the maze, but the silhouette standing at the end of the hedge row is unmistakably Echo. Clarke recognises the dress.

She’s not sure which is worse: that Echo just caught her with her boyfriend’s cock still inside her, or that Bellamy now knows the girl he has his cock in is not his girlfriend.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Echo—” Bellamy says.

“Is that _Clarke_?”

God, even Echo can recognise her from three metres away in almost complete darkness. Yet Bellamy, her supposed best friend, can’t even tell the difference between her and his girlfriend when he’s got his dick inside her. Unless—

Clarke swallows. She glances over her shoulder at Bellamy. He’s looking at Echo.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says. “Echo, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t bother, Bellamy,” Echo snarls. She turns on her heel and storms off. Bellamy doesn’t try to go after her. He’s still holding on to Clarke, and only now does he pull away from her and pull up his pants. Clarke fixes her own clothes, not sure if she’s ready to look at him. The silence is deafening.

When she finally looks up at him, he’s watching her, looking guilty. Clarke is pretty sure she’s the one who should be wearing the expression of guilt. She pulls off her mask.

“You knew it was me.”

“Yeah.”

“The whole time?”

“Not at first,” Bellamy says. “The dress… and it was dark. But when I kissed your neck… Echo never reacts to me like you did.”

Clarke flushes. “Why didn’t you say something?”

Bellamy shrugs. “You didn’t say anything either. I thought it was hot, you masquerading as Echo. That you wanted me so bad you dressed up as my girlfriend.” He pauses. “I, uh—I thought about you a lot. When I was with Echo.”

“You did?” Clarke says. Her heart sings. “Wait—when you were with Echo? Are you not still with her?”

“We had a fight earlier. A bad one. We didn’t exactly break up. But we sure as hell are now,” he says with a wry smile.

Clarke nods. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. But I just—I just really wanted you. I just wanted to know what it would be like to be loved by you,” she says, feeling a lump rise in her throat.

“You know, Clarke,” Bellamy whispers. “You’ve known for a very long time.”

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t—”

“I meant everything I said. I meant it for you.”

“The bit where you think I’m sexy?”

Bellamy laughs. “Yes.”

“And the bit where you’re going to go down on me for hours and then fuck me nice and slow?”

“That too.”

“And the bit where you love me?”

“Yes, Clarke.” He kisses her, and Clarke almost melts into him, but she has one last question she needs to ask.

“Do you think I look better than Echo in this dress?”

“Absolutely.”


End file.
